


Find Your Light

by JaneAudron



Category: XCOM (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Deaths, Gen, Gore, Lots and lots of divergance and original ideas, Original Aliens - Freeform, Original Factions, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Torture, War, Will add more tags when needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26880961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneAudron/pseuds/JaneAudron
Summary: What if there was another Chosen for the Resistance to deal with? What if that Chosen was the befallen XCOM Commander?
Kudos: 15





	1. A Moment to Think

**Author's Note:**

> There may be some short stories in store for the future. The Chosen Commander interacting with her siblings individually. Be the "noodle incident" and a few backstory filling stories. Just in an XCOM mood.

She floated within a cold, dark void. Curled in on herself. Arms wrapped around herself tightly. Shaking. Thinking.

“Where _…? Where…?_ ” Her mind wandered, in a way calling out to the silence. But nothing answered. “Silence… Why?” Something felt wrong. Why was there silence?

“No voices… I can’t hear the Elders’ voices… why?” She wasn’t sure, it filled her with dread. A sense of dread eating at her. It didn’t feel right. They were always there. Always with her. Even as she rested.

The dread slowly washed away as curiosity emerged.

“A moment to think for myself? _Why_?” Rarely was she given such a moment. Only when she served her masters well or when she was under treatment. “Ah, I remember.” a moment of clarity.

“ _Raal’Maker_.”

The source of the silence in her mind.

“I remember now. Another round of treatments after my latest test.” She could picture it clearly.

Her arrival to Master Maker’s hidden facility for a checkup. A facility hidden from his own brethren unless he allowed them to enter. Whenever she arrived, her connection to the collective was broken. Maker said it was good to have silence, and he didn’t want them interrupting his delicate work. She always found that detail suspect but she had witnessed the disagreements Maker had with his brethren. Especially his disagreements with Ga’rox. Such a jealous person. Those two never got along. Especially when anything dealing with her was involved. Anything dealing with the Chosen.

“Like a caring father.”She chuckled.

Truthfully, she was close to Elder. Even in his… diminished condition. The human shells he took on to continue his work hands on, much to the disgust of his brethren. For some reason, that didn’t bother her. She found it quite intriguing. He was an odd one out of the collective. Already quite humble and treated his human workers with respect, even before the incident that caused his deterioration to worsen.

“His condition.”

When ever she asked him about what had happened, he would never tell her. But she could tell it deal with her. She felt guilt. A deep guilt.

“In due time, child.” She could hear that hushed whisper so clearly in her head. “When you find your light. Your other half. When you remember who you are.” Cryptic words he would tell her. “ _Remember_ who you are. You are the key to it all.”

Time and time again, she tried to make sense of them but never could.

“His words so cryptic… Remember who I am? Key to it all?” She shook her head. “I know who I am.” She confidently thought. “ Jy-Sol Maker. Chosen of the Elders. Blessed to take on their visage. Chosen to lead their armies against the One who wishes to consume us all.”

A pit formed in her stomach as doubt consumed her mind. That confidence slipped away. Was she so sure?

She curled into herself even more.“But am I truly?” She held herself tight. “Am I _truly_? I was once…human. Before they _blessed_ me with this new form. Like my siblings.”

She had faint memories of that life before the Elders uplifted her.

A leader, a commander of a secret organization that opposed the Elders when they first arrived. Forced to continue the unprovoked attack — started by other military forces — on Elders by her superiors, that vile Council of Nations. That war lasted far too long. So many lives lost. If they never came to her in a vision, to explain to her why they were truly there. They had peaceful intentions. To help uplift humanity for a dark force that lay ahead. A force that had consumed their world and many others.

Her superiors, nor compatriots, agreed with her decision at first, to call a ceasefire. But the war was going no were and the causalities on humanities side were growing more and more by the day. And the Earth was getting wrecked. The alien forces seemed infinite.

Somehow she swayed most of the Earth’s Council to her decision, to call a cease, and to make contact with the Elders. It worked, though some were not happy, furious that she and the Council would have humanity lay their arms down. They labeled them, and her, a traitor. She didn’t care; it was the only way to save humanity and the Earth from this war. From what lay ahead.

It took sometime for humanity to accept the Elders and their gifts. But it wasn’t long before the Elders, and their forces, helped rebuild humanity and the Earth. Establish the new world order, ADVENT, to help keep the peace. Unification.

Yet, there were those that didn’t trust the Elders and continued their protests and attacks. So many innocents caught in their terrorist attacks. The war was over. Why couldn’t they understand that?

“That’s when they asked me… _tasked me_.”

To help guide their ADVENT, the Elders asked her to lead their forces. To help put a stop to these “resistance” cells and their lost cause. She obliged, though with a heavy heart. Some of those cells consisted of old friends. Those that had disagreed with her, and the Councils, decision to stop the war. But now, their actions were unacceptable. They were only causing chaos.

Once they put her in charge, it didn’t take long to quell many moments of civil unrest and these “resistance” cells popping up around the globe. ADVENT became a well-oiled machine. The Elders’ efforts to help rebuild humanity were able to continue without a hitch.

Around the 15th anniversary of “Unification Day”, the Elders decided it was time to reward her for her unwavering work. Bless her with a new form.

“You are destined for more. Destined to be one of our Chosen.”

Their words from that day rung in her head so clearly. Her body shivered. _Chosen_.

She could remember the procedure. That torturous procedure to change her body, to open her mind. The modification to her genetic structure, bone and sinew broken and remodeled. Her mind, her psyche, being broken to open her to their gift. Their psionics. It was hell.

“Yet here I am. Reborn.”

Though torturous, the process was completed. She was remade, reborn in their image. Yet, one Elder did not wish to field her so hastily.

“Raal’Maker.”

Such a strange Elder he was. Already in that human shell at that time.

She remembered how he made sure he was at the helm of her uplifting. He would perfect her, make sure she would not be like her brethren. The other three Chosen. His words were laced with venom whenever he spoke of those three. She knew her siblings had disappointed the Elders. They were never shy of voicing it when they would put her through her own tests. Some including working with her siblings. More or so _competing_ against them.

“Why do they pit us against each other? Iron sharpening iron?”

Maker scoffed at her when she asked that question one day. Really when ever she brought her siblings up, there was always disgust in his voice. And… a hint of sadness. Like he felt pity for them. She felt that too. Working with her siblings was always strange. She could sense something was off. Something was off and each one of them.

“I will not let them twist you like they twisted them. They’re already taken my Proxies I made for you, my child. _Twisted them_.”

She could hear that hushed voice he always spoke in. Even when he was angry, his voice rarely went above a whisper.

“Especially like the Hunter, that poor Reaper. Twisted his very being, _his memories_ , his _soul_! Now! Look at him! Death of a personality, nothing but a _mad_ lunatic that we barely control.”

The Hunter. He was interesting to “work” with. Mad lunatic was the best description for her brother. The amount of times he had shot her in the back was far too high.

“Something to keep her on her toes.” She could hear that teasing voice of his. How she loathed when he was in that mood. Unnecessary damage she would take. She started to repay every bullet with her own in due time. That only made him bolder. Said she made things exciting, got his blood pumping.

“There is something… off about him.” She muttered. She could sense something in him. Something subtle. A voice crying. Repeating a name. Over and over gain. But she could never make it out. It was all distorted. _Broken_.

“How that voice would become louder when going after his quarry.”

She remembered one specific event. Well, it was cloud memory. The Elders had sent her out to oversee her sibling’s work. Hunting down some Reapers that were disrupting some ADVENT train routes.

“For once, no bullet to my spine or one of my captains being shot.” She shook her head.

She remembered that. She kept her distance. Only providing assistance when her brother asked for it.

“It was all going well until those two ambushed the ambush.” Two Reapers, high up on the food chain. She could tell with how they ordered the others around. “Especially that female.”

She could recall the Hunter having her dead to rights in the sights of his scope. But he hesitated. Hesitated to pull the trigger. And that cost him some brain matter. Even with a good amount of casualties on their side, The Reapers were able to make an explosive getaway.

And she had to pull her brother back from the brink of death. As she dove deep into that psionic well to heal him, to pull fractured skull back together. She heard that crying out more than ever.

“NO! NO! NO!” That voice still rang clearly in her memory. “DON’T SHOOT THEM! DON’T SHOOT HER! DON’T SHOOT E—A STOP! STOP! REMEMBER! REMEMBER! I AM T—”

But once her sibling was back among the living, that voice grew quiet. Back to background noise. The Hunter had no answers to why he didn’t pull the trigger, except it would end the fun.

She couldn’t remember much after that. But it stuck to her. It chilled her.

“But twist me like my brother?” Her mind wondered back to what Maker had said. Was that the source of her brother’s odd personality? “Cryptic words as always from him.”

She never understood that. But she knew Maker’s words had weight to them. Whenever he brought up the Chosen and his Brethren during her checkups, his anger would cause his psionics to spike; causing him burn out of his human shells faster than normal. There was something about the creation of the Chosen that always sparked a fire in him.

“Oh, how I barely prevented that fate for you, my child. How it toke much for me to convince them not to go that far. Not to tamper with your memories like they did with him. _Insanity_.”

“Memories… Did they do something to mine, Raal’Maker?”

The very thought chilled her. Had the Elders done that to her? After all she had done for them?

“No, no, no. Impossible.” She shivered.

Though memories of procedures and check-ups were becoming more clear as she had her mind to herself. She remembered the disdain Raal’Maker held back whenever his Brethren were there. When ever Angelis was there making her requests. _No_.

“Demands. Rarely were they requests.”

She could understand his contempt towards them. Understand why he was so protective over her. Was that why Maker always told her to remember who she truly was? Why he always gave her cryptic words?

She curled into herself even more, burying her head into her chest. Warm tears flowing down her face. Uncertainty. Fear. All slowly consuming her mind.

“Something… does… feel off… with my memories.”

Whenever she had the time to think with a clear mind, the time to reflect on those memories, something about them seemed off. Her other memories, faint memories that would surface during these times of clarity. Memories of her time as the commander of that organization. _How_ she became the commander. Memories of how she acted, her character. Almost two sets of memories contradicting each other.

“Then that gap that has Maker stumped. That light. My other half.”

There was this strange gap in her memory about how she became the commander. Something in-between the testing and her induction. Something she couldn’t remember. And she could feel a hole there. Like something important, something dear to her was missing.

“Did I really make that choice to stop the war? To join the Elders?”

Something in her told her to doubt those memories. Something told her Earth didn’t launch an unprovoked strike against the Elders and their forces. Something told her what the Elders told her was a lie. They weren’t there to uplift humanity. Their actions, their ADVENT, spoke otherwise. Some missions they would send her on to quell resistance cells.

“Commander Reeves!”

A voice rang clearly in her head.

“Who? What?” Her lids tightened. Her body shook more.

“Commander Jynn!!!” The voice repeated. A distressed voice. The voice of an old friend.

“My old name.”

Gun fire. Screaming. Roars. Metal grinding. Rocks collapsing. All of this tore into her mind. Tore into her body. Spurts of this… this… memory came before her.

“The base. XCOM.”

It was hazy, erratic. Chunks of rocks falling from the ceiling one moment. Nearly taking off her head as it crushed the console next to her. The next moment, the butt of some weapon greeting her skull. The world went dark. But she could hear that voice.

“JYNN!!”

That voice calling out to her again. Saying her old name. Something about it bothered her.

“DAMMIT! THEY HAVE THE COMMANDER!!”

That anger, that _fear_ in the voice bothered her.

“Who was it?”

She tried to remember. She remembered the sensation of something grabbing her, nails tearing into her shoulder as she flung over a shoulder. The world slowly came too, but it was a blurry mess. But she could see a figure. A figure desperately trying to get to her. Reaching out to her but rubble quickly separated the two.

“WHO WAS IT!?”

She wanted to know, but the memory ended. A new one began. Soft, green lights flooded the view before her eyes.

“Imbeciles!”

A hissed voice echoed in her voice. It sounded… Ethereal.

“Wha–What?”

What was this memory? Something about it made her uneasy. Oh, so uneasy. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her. Fear was still growing.

“You nearly KILLED the asset!”

That hissed voice because a roar. A chorus of angry voices. So recognizable to her.

“Asset?”

What did they mean by that? Something about that word made her skin crawl.

In the memory, from the corner of her eyes, she could see a familiar purple glow. Then there was sudden crashing, glass shattering everywhere as a body — a Muton — flew over her. Crashing off in the distance. A stream of psionic energy flowing off that body.

“You will be punished punished further. Pray that the asset is recoverable or else you will be eradicated, you _speck_.”

Those voices. It finally clicked.

“My Masters?”

They did not tolerate careless mistakes. She had seen them punish those who tested their merciful patience. Those who betrayed their kindness. But something about this memory was different. Like she was seeing behind their mask. Seeing what Raal’Maker hated about them.

“Get the asset chipped and placed under recovery. We cannot work with her body mangled like this!”

The purple light never went away. It continued to radiate, consume the soft green light. She could feel the anger, remember the anger permitting the room. Then a figure came into view. A tall, spindly creature. The Thin Man. A unit no longer needed since the war was over. Except in special circumstances. How the Elders had refined its form.

“What is—!?!?”

Before she knew it, in the memory, something grabbed her head, pulling it back, and yanked open her mouth. There was a twisted grin on that Thin Man as it raised its hand, holding a strange device. The next moment, the device was plunged into her mouth. Something was shoved, if not ramming into her skull. She felt a bolt run up her spine. Her mind being suppressed. Stolen from her.

“Your acquisition will not be in vain for our cause.”

Just as the world was going dark, familiar figures entered her vision. All bathed in intense psionic energy. The Elders. It went dark. The memory left her.

“What…?”

Her voice trembled, her body trembled. These memories made no sense to her. But they felt real. Far more real than the others.

“Did I call the cease fire? Or was I captured?”

These thoughts ran to her mind. She started to recall her memories. The ones of cease fire. And then those faint ones. Ones of her possible… capture. She played them side by side. Scrutinizing every detail.The former felt faked, staged in some way. Everything about them made her mind scream that they were false.

“What did they do?”

And then the latter. They felt so real to her, even if they were faint. So spotty.

“Oh, how I barely prevented that fate for you, my child. How it toke much for me to convince them not to go that far. Not to tamper with your memories like they did with him. _Insanity_.”

Maker’s voice rang in her mind once more. They tampered with hers, didn’t they?

“What did they do to me!?”

She felt violated. Anger flared up inside of her. She was starting to under Maker’s words. What did they do to her? What was the truth? She was going to tear apart her memories to get to the answer.

Just as she tried to scrutinize the memories more, they slowly began to wash away as something warm embraced. Her shaking died down. That fear, that uncertainty, slowly washing away.

“Our child.”

A chorus of voices greeted her ear. Psionic energy began to envelope her body.

“No, no, no…” She softly whispered. She wanted to fight it. _Fight them_. Remember those suppressed memories. Scrutinize the fake ones.

“Our greatest creation.”

Their voices sung. Sweet words to her mind. Her will to fight disappeared.

“You will lead our armies against those that wish to disrupt our vision. Oh, young one.”

“Hello, my masters.” She greeted them. All sense of rebellion was gone. Though still curled upon herself, she drew her head from her chest. Her eyes opened. The ghostly visages of her Masters greeted her in this void. Three of them.

“What do you ask of your humble servant?”

“We have a task for you. And you alone.” A soft, female voice spoke. The one in the middle. Angelis. “To retrieve something stolen from us. A valuable asset. Stolen from us. On the day we unified this world.”

Anger surged through Jy-Sol’s body. They committed this act of theft on Unification day?

“Who has done this great disgrace to you my, Masters?” Jy-Sol asked.

The three Elders outstretched their hands to the sky. Images flooded the void. Images of city’s the cameras captured the bold event. Images of chaos that happened that day. Destruction of one of the statues, the assault on the gene therapy clinic, the loss of life. Why?

“They call themselves XCOM. A relic of the old world that still fights against our vision.” Angelis continued to speak. “They care not for what have done for humanity. Care not for our gifts and mercy.”

“Where are they so I may rectify their grave mistake.” Her eyes focused on one image that captured the insignia of this faction. _XCOM_.It seemed to familiar to her.

“Patience, young one.”

“Apologies.” She quickly hushed herself. “Forgive me.”

“All is forgiven.” Angelis replied in a hushed tone. Like a mother soothing their child. “You show your commitment to us. Your light burns bright.”

Such praised they always showered upon her.

“Angelis… if I may?” A raspy voice asked. The Elder to the left of Angelis.

“You may, Orosos.” She gestured for him to speak.

“Jy-Sol.” He grabbed her attention.

The images changed before her eyes. Changed to a heavily forested area. The sights of shanty towns and tents strung about. People, disheveled people living in the shadows. This must have been a grouping of people that wanted to stay out of the Elders’ sight. Still clinging to the old world. _Archaic._

“It had been given to us that this, XCOM, will be meeting another group in this place with in three days. You will be familiar with this group.”

Another image came forth. Anger flared inside Jy-Sol once again. “Those traitors.”

An image of a Skirmisher. Betrayers of ADVENT. The Assassin was slipping up.

“They conspire with them. To utilize the asset stolen from us.” He said.

“How do you wish for me to retrieve the asset?” She asked. “My Masters?”

“The asset should be nearby this meeting, if not in the base of XCOM’s operations. It is rare for it to be far away when they conduct such meetings.”

Another image was shown. What was once one of the Elders’ cargo ships had been changed. Defiled, to become a tool for their enemies. Oh, how she hated it.

“Shouldn’t talk long to scan the surrounding area”Jy-Sol spoke her thoughts. “Air support and scouting group should be able to locate it while they are occupied with this meeting.”

“It would be a simple task… if they did not have some sort of camouflage technology that disrupts our technology.” He chided.

“Yes… they may be able to detect the scans, sound the alarms to those in the meeting. Before we have a chance to strike, they will be gone.”

“Exactly.” He nodded. “Unless.”

“Yes.”She was eager to hear.

Another image came before her. The image of a man captured during another meeting of the factions. Grizzled, war weary. Something about his appearance said he was important.

“You capture this individual. Extract the knowledge from his mind.”

“The head of the snake?” She asked.

“Yes.” Orosos nodded. “This one called Central.”

“Central…” She muttered. She held onto it. Memorized it. Something about it seemed so familiar to her. She pushed the thought from her mind.

“I see…” She muttered. “Maybe…”

“Speak your mind, child.” Angelis said.

“Apologies,” she said, “formulating a plan of attack.”

“What is it?” Orosos asked. “Speak!”

“A two-pronged attack.” She explained. “I will have limited ground and air units sweep the surrounding area in search of XCOM’s ship. Not to many unless I spook them, but will have a few disabler ships on standby, ready to knock the ship out of the sky.” She paused. “While another force, with me at the helm strikes the meeting. The ensuing chaos should flush their base out of hiding, whether they chose to rescue their leader or abandon him.” She paused once more. “Either way, once I have their leader in my grasp and extract the knowledge from him, we should be able to track where ever that _flying coffin_ will be heading.”

The three Elders looked at her, then themselves. They murmured. The images slowly disappeared. Yet they continued to murmur.

The silence ate at her.

“Quite the scenario.” Ororos spoke.

“Quite the mind.” The other hissed. The one to the right of Angelis.

“Our Tactician.” Angelis said.

That unease faded away.

“I have prepped an army for you.” The hissing voice spoke. “Our forces are at your disposal. Do with them as you wish.”

“Thank you, Master Ri’vi.” Jy-sol nodded.

She was always grateful for their support. She would not be wasteful.

“Arise, young one. Time for you to prepare for you greatest task at hand. Retrieve our asset and quell this pointless rebellion.”

As Angelis spoke, the psionic energy enveloping Jy-Sol grew. She felt their very power course through her. Invigorate her.

“Arise and do not disappoint us!”

Such a strong command.

“I will not. My Masters.”

One should could handle. She always did.

The void began to fade, and so did the Elders. But their whispers, their encouragements where in the back of her mind. She was not alone. _Reconnected_.

She took in several deep breaths. The sluggishness, the effects of check up washing away.

“I will not fail them.”

She could hear the outside world. The murmuring. The chattering. Nervous chattering. Humans.

The door to the chamber finally opened, flooding the room with a heavy mist. She stopped forth. That chattering quickly stopped. She studied the room. Her eyes narrowing, peering through the mist. Humans. Her eyes softened.

“Please…” She paused, studying the nervous, frightful faces of the humans before her. Raal’Maker’s workers. She had a soft spot for them. “Bring me my gear.” He eyes harshened. ” _Immediately_.”

But there was no time to entertain that soft spot. She had a task to complete.

Without question, the humans quickly scattered to retrieve her gear. She went over to the area where her under-armor was kept and started getting prepped.

“I am ready.”


	2. Preparations for the Elders' Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jy-Sol prepares for her grand task. Gathering more intel, making adjustments to her forces, and her gear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to go ahead and do a partial spoiler warning. In a way this fic may/will also spoil things for the other two XCOM fics I'm working. Events in this one are different, but there will be some characters, certain events, and other things that show up in the others.

Preparations. Preparations. Only two days before this meeting would come to being.

There was much planning Jy-Sol had to do before XCOM’s defiance could be rectified. Before the asset they stole could be retrieved. She had her Masters favor, their resources, but she would not treat it in a trivial manner. She always considered her resources finite. Kept her from making unnecessary decisions. From making mistakes. From wasting such valuable assets. She would not fail them.

She was in her sanctuary, her stronghold, finalizing preparations for the ambush. The nerve center, information hub of her stronghold, was buzzing with movement. Her ADVENT troopers mobilizing for the mission ahead. And humans. Humans handling some of the logistics and intel gathering. Only her most trusted humans could work there; and a few aliens hand picked by Raal’Maker.

Jy-Sol was at the center of it all. In the center of the room, surrounded by a series of holo-panels. Carefully scrutinizing every bit of information her Masters’ had provided her and overseeing a small sortie. She had sent out one of her elite scouting teams to get the lay of the land. See how many of those Skirmishers they would have to deal with. If the few human settlements they were protecting would pose a problem.

“Capture and raze those settlements. Capture, interrogate, and execute the traitors.”

And to locate any trace of that stolen ship XCOM had repurposed.

“How did you get _that_?”

A traitor must have allowed the capture of the ship. The onboard AI and security systems should have fried anyone not authorized to use it. But somehow they got past that and repurposed it.

“XCOM. _What_ are you? _Who_ are you?”

The resistance organization was piquing her interest. This was a ghost of an organization. It should have been long gone and dead. Disbanded once the war was over. But they were alive, in a diminished capacity of sorts. Information on who the heads of this snake were scarce. Some information on their lowers members could be found. Most were from other resistance cells, a few were citizens that grew “disillusioned” with ADVENT, and some were traitors turning their back on ADVENT and all the good they did.

Though small, they were causing trouble. Uniting resistance cells one by one across the globe. Getting the Reapers and Skirmishers to work together. Impossible. The Elders did not like that.

“XCOM.” That word sounded so familiar to her, but she didn’t know why. It just rolled off her tongue. So familiar.

“They must be punished.” She heard a hissed whisper in the back of her mind. One from the Elders. “Disrupting our peace. Our plans.”

“Indeed.” She agreed.

“Will you become my quarry? Like my siblings have their own?”

The thought amused her. Possibly something to keep her properly occupied and out of her siblings’ territories. Fewer “joint” missions together. Fewer fights and bullets to the back. Except for the Assassin, she got along with her better than her brothers.

“Jax-Rai.” She said the name with a sigh. “How are you slipping again? Why do you let these traitors run rampant?” That disappointed her. The Skirmishers were spreading.

“Ram.” She called out.

“Yes, Jy-Sol?” A human answered to her call. Coming over to her was a hooded male, several wires and cables were trailing from him, emerging from his coat, connecting to various parts of the room. The lower half of his face covered by a loose scarf.

“Kindly ask my sister, Jax-Rai, for information on the Skirmishers Purifier units.” At the moment, she was studying the image of one of the Skirmirshers XCOM would be meeting. “I can tell their flamethrowers are modified from this image. I want to know _how_ modified.” She knew Jax-Rai would be willing to lend her _some_ information.

“Right way.” He nodded before returning to his post.

“And prep my forces to deal with burns and explosives.”

“Will do, my Lady.”

She watched him go before returning her attention to the panels.

“Mala’tek. Designation: AP - F - C77 - 5577. You were once a Purifier. ”

The image of a female Skirmisher was before her. Her skin tinged with purple beneath the white war paint she wore. The recognizable scorched orange armor now desecrated with the symbol and styling of the Skirmishers. She burned their name and look into her mind.

“Leader of this branch of the Skirmishers. South America. Jax-Rai _how_?” Still she was surprised the Skirmishers had spread so far.

Her eyes glanced over to another panel. One that was tracking the progress of her scouts.

“An outpost?”

Looks like they found something. Just below the cliff the scouting team was on, hidden deep within the thicket of trees were several buildings. At a first glance, they looked abandoned. Overgrown with weeds, vines, and trees, but there was movement.

“Don’t give yourselves away. Just watch. Take notes.” A quick psionic thought and they did as commanded. “Need to know how many. See what final adjustments must be made.”

She watched the panel for a while longer before shifting her attention back to planning.

“XCOM.” She came back to them. Her eyes fell upon the image of their leader. The war-weary looking man.

“Hm.” She mumbled as she focused on the image. A simple flick from her finger and the image zoomed in, focusing on the man’s face. “Why do you seem so familiar?” There was something itching the back of her mind. Like an old memory coming forth.

“J-JYN-NNN!” A distorted male voice crying out to her.

She froze. Her eyes darted around. “What was that?” She whispered to herself. The room was quiet, minus the usual chatter.

“Hm.” She bit her lip and closed her eyes. “Nothing. It was nothing. That old name means nothing to me no—”

“JYNN! DAMMIT THEY HAVE THE COMMANDER!” That voice called out again. Less distorted.

She froze once more as an image came to mind. A vision. Terribly distorted as chaos was all around. But she saw someone reaching out towards her. The gap between the two growing as her name was called out more.

“What is this?” She mumble. “Why does this feel so… familiar?” She had no memory of this event. But it intrigued her. She focused on it. Trying to clear the noise of all the chaos. Trying to figure out how was calling out her old name. Just as the visage of the person was coming clear, it was all quickly obliterate.

“Refocus.” That familiar whisper of the Elders spoke to her. “Catch the snake.”

“Capture him.” Another voice joined. “ _Alive_.”

“Information must be extracted.”

“Information on the other cells. On these _dissenters_.”

Always a chorus of voices.

“Scum.”

“Vermin.”

“Quell this all before they disrupt everything.”

“Yes.” Jy-Sol’s eyes snapped open. Her eyes refocused on the screens. On her quarry. “Correct this all before they undo your blessed work.” She was in agreement with the Elders. Those thoughts, those memories, quickly disappeared. They didn’t matter. Only the Elders’ will did.

“>Master Jy-Sol.<“ She heard a voice ring in her head. One of her captains. “>We may have a problem.<”

“What is it Volo?” Her head snapped up, towards one of the screens. “What do you mean by _that_?”

“>Look at my sight. Look at this outpost.<”

She found the particular captain’s view. Another outpost. One more out in the open and less disguised. Many Skirmishers, rebels they protected, and what looked to be a few XCOM members there. A small meeting of sorts?“That looks to be an old outpost. Abandoned. Hm.” Depending on when and why it was abandoned, she could see why that could have been a problem. “What weaponry do they have? Wait… What is _that_?” She noticed something.

“>The problem. _Problems_.<”

As the captain’s view zoomed in on the outpost, she now understood the urgency of the call.

“Are those _PROXIES_!?”

She couldn’t believe her eyes. Outside the outpost. Outside mingling with the dissenters were two PROXIES. Two from the Elite asset Project for the Chosen to “share” when needed were with the enemy? Why?

“Garette.” Her eyes focused on him. That torture technician by night, TV personality by day. He looked to be talking with both XCOM and the Skirmishers. _Bantering_. The pale man stood out like a sore thumb. A sharply dressed man, in a pure white suit amongst the rebellious filth. What was that reassuring TV personality doing with the enemies? Captured? He looked far too relaxed to be a prisoner, even with his charismatic attitude.

Her eyes shifted over to what looks to be a squabble. “No, training. Sparring.” She quickly corrected her mind. “Yorrick.” An Elite Raid Commander. Best described as a barbarian in both looks and tactics. He was sparring with a group of Skirmisher. One versus many. Their wrist gauntlets versus his bare fists. He was reveling in it. Howling to the sky as they came at him with all they ha.

“Impossible.” She shook her head. “That can’t be Garette and Yorrick.”She didn’t want to believe what she saw. What were they doing there? Undercover or traitors?

“Perhaps they are in deep cover? Like Psymon?” She tried to reason it in her mind. She didn’t want to think of the other option.

“Brainwashed. Weak. Traitors.” A hissed Elder spoke in her mind.

“Traitors to our cause. Traitors to our beloved children.”Another, but more soft-spoken, added.

More of their thoughts filled her mind. All voicing anger and disappointment towards the Proxies.

“Failures. Failures.”

“Capture and repurpose.” Another task for her. “Capture and repurpose.”

“Yes. _Weak_.” She closed her eyes and nodded. “More traitors. There will be no mercy.” Adjustments to her plans had to be made. Psionic traps to disable to two, especially Yorrick, would be needed.

“But…” She quietly whispered to herself. “Perhaps it _is_ deep cover.” A small part of her hoped that was true. Sometimes the Elders could be secretive for the greater good. She was rather fond of Garette; he had ways to extract information from minds that were resilient to psionics. She knew her sister was fond of him too. One PROXY the two shared frequently without issue. She wondered if Jax-Rai knew of this development.

“Wait.” Her eyes opened quickly. A thought crossed her mind. “Get out of there _now_.” She spoke with haste.

“>Pardon?<“

“Leave now. Don’t make yourselves known.”

“>If I may ask…Master.<” Though hesitant at first, Volo started to move, instructing her men to follow.

“Speak, Volo.”

“>Why the haste?<“

“Garette and Yorrick are close friends. But there is a third to their group.” She brought up screens of the other soldiers in Volo’s pod. Carefully scrutinizing them. Searching the surroundings.

“>A third?<”

“Proxy Smoke. Recon Sniper.” So far, her eyes found nothing. But she was sure that sniper was there. Looking for that haze. If those two had fallen, she felt like they would have roped Smoke into their treachery.

“>Noted. Continuing scouting. Will report anything else.<“

“Good. Stay sharp.”

She didn’t take her eyes off the screen. She wanted to make sure that Volo and her men made it out safely. No alarms raised. If Smoke was there, all the planning would be for naught. Smoke would raise the alarm and kill her men. Her prime opportunity to ambush them would be gone. Thankfully, nothing happened.

As her scouts continued to work, she continued to study the enemy and make changes to her plan. She gave out commands to the workers around her. Preparing the drop ships and ground forces. Heavy artillery. Power disrupter for that ship. Reinforced and fire-resistant armor for her troops. Shieldbarriers would be needed; an experimental project, but they should provide extra protection from explosive. A priest. Another experimental unit, but something needed for those traitorous PROXIES if the psionic traps could not hold them.

“Don’t need the Puppeteer and Ghost Butcher at full power. They will be reclaimed.”

She would deal with them herself, but she knew her attention needed to be on this leader of XCOM. She studied what that man, Central, wore in the image. Armored like the rest of the XCOM soldiers. Integrated with some stolen plating from fallen ADVENT troopers. A rifle and blade on his back. Human tech. Though, looked to be the beginnings of alien tech being integrated.

“Heavily modified rifle. _Paranoid_.” She mumbled. “That blade looks like it will burn if it touches. Will need to close that gap when things pop off.”

“All squads, return to base within the hour.” She sent a message to the scouts.

“>Roger that.<“

“>Affirmative.<“

“>As you command.<“

“>Yes Master Jy-Sol.<“

They all responded quickly.

She closed the screens one by one. She closed her eyes, taking a moment to ponder. “Need to double check my equipment. Select what would be most appropriate. _Close combat_.”

“>Master Jy-Sol.<“ A voice called out to her, pulling her from her thoughts. A female trooper. “>Information report.<“

Her eyes opened. “What now?” She let out a hiss. “Yes? What is i—” As she turned to face them, she paused. Something wasn’t right. Something was off about the saluting trooper before her. She could feel it. They. Looked like a trooper. _Sounded_ like one. Their thoughts read like one, but she could sense something was off. Her eyes glowed strongly for a moment, concentrating on the trooper. For a moment their aura looked normal to her, a slight hint of that psionic connection to the network all of ADVENT had, but then it shifted. An abrupt spike. One aura splitting into several. A splintering mind. Faint voices came from the new auras, all babbling indecipherable nonsense.

“ _Oh_.” She let out a low growl as she closed her eyes. The glow disappearing. “Knock it off Psymon!”

The trooper dropped their hand. Their face plain, stoic for a moment. Then the corner of their mouth twitch before breaking out into a grin. “Ha! Ha! Ha!” The female voice started to shift into a scratchy, high pitched male voice, before dropping a few octaves. The pitch continued to switch back and forth as they cackled. A few other voices joined in before being drowned out by the scratchy male voice.

“Nrgh!” The trooper hunched over. There was a loud snap and tearing sound.

Their skin, their armor began to bulge, twitch, and crack. Bones and flesh twisting, black armor becoming bright pink flesh as this _thing_ shifted and contorted through many screaming and laughing shapes before coming back together in a human form. A tall, scraggily man wearing loose “clothes”. Bright orange hair sprawled everywhere. Wide, twitching eyes smiling at her. “One of these days I’ll get ya boss!” He sounded oddly peppy.

“What are you doing here , Psymon?” Jy-Sol rose to her feet. “I haven’t requested your presence.” The next moment, she was towering in front of him. “You _PROXY._ ”

“Well..” He shrugged, rocking back and forth on his heels. A wide smile on his face. “Just wanted to visit.”

“And?” She leaned over, getting into his face. “ _And?_ ” She could sense there was more.

He only grinned more. “I brought gifts and info!”

“Gifts?” She raised a brow. “ _Info_?”

He quickly took two steps back to get some space. “Heard on the grapevine that you’ll be going after a particular rebel organization.~” He sung. “And I got you something things.” He reach _inside_ of himself, through his clothing if not flesh. Squelching could be heard. “Eergh,” He grunted as he pulled what looked to be a piece armor out of his chest, “something for your boys to analyze.” He raised it, his arm stretching out to her eye level.

“You never cease to amaze me.” She commented at the sight, lightly chuckling. Her eyes drifted to be the piece of armor. Looked to be plating from the chest. The XCOM insignia dead center on it. Looked to be flecks of blood on it. Could have been his. Could have been the owners.“And disgust me.”

“Ha! Ha! I aim to please!” He cackled. “Got some weapons too!” The barrel of some gun slowly started to emerge from his chest before he quickly retracted it.

“So you’ve been deep cover?” She paced around him.

“Yep! Lots of info you’ll love.” He retracted his arm and reabsorbed the piece of armor. “I’ve been spying on one haven some XCOM operatives at it doing some supply trading with recently.”

“Huh.” She wondered why her Masters hadn’t informed her of this. They had their reasons. “Go to Ram.” She pointed in the direction of him. “Tell him everything. He’ll instruct you on where to turn in your _gifts._ ”

“Will do boss!” He nodded several times. “Toddles!”A skip and a hop and he was away.

“Strange _thing._ ” She mumbled. She still had no idea what base species Psymon was. Something similar to those Faceless but genetically different. “Twisted like Master Maker says. That splintered mind… reminds me of my brother.” She pondered on it for a moment, but quickly pushed it aside.

With that interruption done, she went to her private armory.

“Preparations. Preparations. Time to select my gear.”


	3. Gifts From The Maker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few parting gifts before Jy-Sol is off to complete her task.

One day away from that meeting would begin. One day away before she would fulfill her Masters’ will.

Jy-Sol already had mobilized her best soldiers. Stationing them at nearby ADVENT outposts close to the area. Cut down the final flight time for the ambush. There was already a crackdown happening in that region. Increased ADVENT activity wouldn’t look too out of place. Nor would a few raids on the nearby havens.

———————

The final hours before the event were slowly ticking down. Pieces all falling into place.

“What to choose?”

And yet, Jy-Sol was undecided.

Walls upon walls lined with various weapons and tools. All neatly organized to their types and models. Her fingers ran against cold metal as she paced past the racks of shotguns.

“Ah!” She paused in her steps. Her hand resting against one that caught her attention. Her fingers wrapped around the barrel. “Maybe you?”

She was still in her Stronghold, back in her armory. Not satisfied with her decisions the other day. There was never just _one_ weapon for the job. She wanted her selection to be perfect.

“A shotgun would be best for the close quarters. Similar to how my sister works. I’ve mastered closing the distance with short teleports.” At the moment she was double checking the barrel of the sleek weapon. “Though what should I temper the spread to? Tight or loose?” She muttered, eyes glancing back to the particular rack.

Advantages. Disadvantages. So much to consider. “Tighter spread. Can’t risk injuring my target in the crossfire. _Too much_.” She darkly chuckled. “I have my pistol to quickly pick off mid to long range targets.”

She continued to examine it for a while longer. Tweaking the laser sight and double checking the magazine. Once done with it, she set it aside and turned her attention to her blades.

“Close quarters. Close quarters.” She muttered as went over to wall holding them. Pacing once more. “A glaive or a short blade.” She paced between the respective racks. Pole arms and short blades of various shapes and sizes.

“Hm… perhaps both. I have light ones.” She was contemplating the idea. “I know…” She paused before the short blades. “The one that folds out from the hilt. I can spring it on close targets.” Her eyes fell upon a hilt. A hilt decorated with silver diamonds. Diamonds similar to her Elder marks. She picked it up.

With a little tumble and flick of her wrist, the blade sprung forth. She raised it towards the light, watching her reflection from the gleaming silver blade. “Hmm, yes.” She liked her idea. A quick movement with her hand, the blade retracted. She placed the hilt on her waist. The perfect sport for her lower arms to grab in an instant.

“Now,” she turned her attention to the pole arm. “which glaive?” Well, the rack of pole arms. “One with just the right length to keep the distance.”

“Jy-Sol.” A soft, hushed voice called her name.

She froze in her tracks. She knew this voice; this presence. She spun around immediately. “Master Maker!” Her eyes widened. A new human shell, as always. This time an older man, thick beard, long graying hair pulled back into a bun. Dressed in a black suit.

She immediately dropped to her knees, bowing her head. “What do you need of your humble servant?” How did she not hear them? Why was he here? The thought raced through her mind. Even more so when she felt the Elders’ voices becoming muffled in her mind. That worried her. And why did he have company?She noticed three people behind him. Three ADVENT soldiers. Heavily modified. She could detect that. A slight resonating signal was coming from them. And then their armor gave it away. Each one was unique. And one was carrying a case.

“Please. Please.” He shook his head. He gestured for her to get up. “You know I don’t like that.” There was a hint of annoyance in his voice, but he still had a soft smile.

“Apologies.” She hushed herself as she slowly rose back up. But she kept one knee knelt to stay at eye level with him. She moved her hood slightly back. “If I may ask… why are you here?”

“I noticed you left early once your treatment was done.” He raised his hand, causing the three soldiers following him to stop. He walked over to her, soon pacing around her. “I see my _Brethren_ have called you away.” A hiss escaped his lips. “An important task?”

“Yes.” She nodded. She kept an eye on him as he circled her. A lump formed in her throat. She felt the Elders trying to rise in her mind. Trying to reconnect, but they were muffled. “Very important. Retrieving an asset stolen on Unification Day.”

“A stolen asset?” He questioned. “That’s terrible and bold. I wonder what it was… Who stole it?”

“A rebel faction by the name of XCOM.”

“XCOM?” Maker paused in front of her. “X–COOM.” He let the name roll of his tongue. “Hmm.” He tugged on his beard. “ _Hm_!“ He suddenly turned away from her. But the corner of his lips were twitching. “I haven’t heard that name in a _long_ time.”

“You know of them, Master?” That piqued her interest. Was that a grin she caught? Why the sudden turning away?

“A name from the old world. A disbanded organization.” He answered. “Or were they decimated? Can’t remember which.”

“Master.” She could sense he was being cryptic. A part of her yearned for that information.

“It doesn’t matter.” He hushed her.“A trivial discussion for another time.”

“As you wish.” She held back a sigh.

“I came bearing gifts. I did not come to judge.” He turned back to face her. No grin. Just his usual smile. “ _Great_ gifts.”

“Gifts?” She asked. It surprised her how quiet his voice stayed even, when excited.

“Come forth.” He gestured for the trio to come forth. They did so.

“I have been, slaving away on series of special projects for you, my child.” He raised his hands once the trio were closer. They stopped. “More PROXIES. _Only you._ Extensions of _your_ will.” He softly chuckled. “Ones my Brethren do not now about. Ones they can’t _twist_ and take away.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came forth. She was speechless. “Master Maker…” She uttered a whisper. “Why do this?”

He softly laughed. “You deserved them.” He looked at the trio and snapped his fingers. “Introduce yourselves.”

The one on the left stepped forth. Mostly black and gray armor with jagged orange stripes as highlights. Their helmet looked much sleeker than the standard troopers. Oddly ornate with a horn in the center; thin yet sharp. Possibly in a pinch they could gore a target? Also, their armor looked much lighter than the other two. Stun Lancer build light. Like they were meant to do hit n’ run tactics. Speed was their game. There was a segmented skirt-like armor covered the upper portion of their left leg. A bandolier of stun grenades hung from the right hip. Then their biceps were uncovered, just their forearms and hands were covered. The visible skin was a dark gray with faint white striations. On closer observation, it looked like they had a short layer of fur.

“Claudis. Codename Faust. My claws your service, my lady.” A deep, male guttural growl from them. For a moment he flashed his teeth, sharp canines. But there no ill will from him. Once he introduced himself, he stepped back.

The one on the right stepped forth.Their armor was white, under-armor was black, and there were sweeping red stripes decorating it. But the design reminded Jy-Sol of an ADVENT Preist with how sleek it was. But their armor was much more segmented. Many slats, some looked as though they could slide back, opening up to something. As they came closer, something tickled Jy-Sol’s nose. They smelt faintly of sweet flowers.

“S’Norri.” A calm female voice answered. She raised one of her hands. “You may also call me Wolfsbane.” With her palm facing up, a slate covering the center of her palm opened up. The next instant, a high-pitched hiss could be heard. Blue tinged mist emanated from it. “Your enemies will breath their last before me.” Before it could truly form, the slate close and she retracted her hand. She took a step back.

Now the last one stepped forward. The one in the middle. The one holding the case. Their armor was a dark gray with blue stripes. They were heavily armored. Part of their design mimicked the in-progress Shieldbearers. Though there were several tubes coming from their back, wrapping around their arms. Visible mist was trailing from their body. With every step, small crystals of ice splintered and fell from their armor.

“The name is Dagos.” A hoarse male voice spoke. His breath was visible “Codename Enigma. I’ll keep your six frosty.” He didn’t step back once finished, instead he looked towards Maker.

“Each has a unique ability that will be helpful to your cause, my child.” Maker spoke. “They will serve you greatly.”

“Master Maker…” She still didn’t know what to say.

“Ah!” A hushed gasped. “Before I forgot. Dagos please.”

Dagos nodded. He took a step towards Jy-Sol once more and then kneeled down. He lifted the case, pressing a button.

CLICK!

There was a crack before the case fully opened. What caught her eye first was with in it was a golden helm; It had an open top design, so her hair could flow freely. Segmented, yet sleek, the patterns intricately carved into the metal mimicked her Elder marks. Then protruding from the band were two black horns, curved back slightly. Almost naked to the eye were intricate circles carved into. Looked almost like obsidian. Then there was a black crystalline twin-bladed knife. Just looking at it, she felt it resonate to her. Calling out to her. So strange. And the last item to be a gun, almost similar to her shotgun in appearance.But she could tell there was more to it knowing Maker. She could see segments and sections that looked to be for attachments. A highly customizable weapon perhaps?

“What is this?” She reached out a hand to investigate them. But as her hand was mere inches away, she paused. Hesitant.

“Gifts, my child.” Maker took a step closer. He raised his hand, his eyes flashed red as his purple-red psionic energy enveloped his hand. The next moment, that golden helm rose out of the case, floating over to him. “Much needed upgrades.” Once it reached his hand, he let it drop into it. “An amplifier for your psionics. To replace the one your brother, Dhay-Vol, broke during your last squabble.”

“ _Warlock_.” She said with a low growl, but she turned away from him. Memories of that incident came to her mind. She was deeply ashamed of that day as let her anger got the best of her. Though Dhay-Vol was trying his luck. Testing her. Refusing her advice to not rely on his psionics all the time. They nearly killed each other that day. “Master I—”

“Shh…” He hushed her. “That _rotten_ child must learn the hard way. Before he repeats _Our_ mistakes.” He softly chuckled. Cryptic. “Now,” he raised the helm to her, “put it on.”

She quietly nodded and pulled her hood back, some of her snow white hair fell forward. She quickly swept it to the side before taking the helm from Maker. She raised it to her face, studying it for a moment. The inside of it almost looked plain. No traces of the Elders’ tech could be seen. But she knew there had to be more to it.

“Put it on.” That hushed voice of Maker encouraged her. She nodded again.

Without further hesitation, she placed it on her head. Her eyes widened. She grimaced. “Argh.” A quiet grunt slipped from her lips. There was the feeling of several pin pricks, like something rooting into her face, digging into her mind. Her eyes began to glow. Her psionics appeared, slowly swirling around her head. The markings on the obsidian horn glowed.

“Maker!” She gasped. As the feeling grew, and the pain along with it, she dropped to the ground. Her fingers digging into the floor as she felt the helm tighten on her head. Shaping itself to her. Or was it shaping her to it? That didn’t matter. Only the pain did. It felt like her skull was cracking. Slowly splitting open. Both physically and mentally. 

“Marker!” She cried out again. Her vision blurred. The voices of the Elders were gone. No more muffled murmurs. Just silence. An eerie silence.

“The pain will last only for a little while.” He hushed her. “You will be fine.”

She was about to speak until she felt the rooting dig further and then pull on her. Pulling something from her. “Argh!” She cried out. From the sides of the helm resting on her cheekbones, two more horns sprung forth. Just as black as the two on the top. But something seemed to be dripping from it. Something orange and red. The pain began to subside, but her vision was still blurry. Cautiously she lifted her hands to her face, checking it. Blood. A little blood was running down her face. Though everything else felt the same. But that helm. That helm was firmly attached. “Maker…” There was still pain in her voice. She turned to look at him. “What…?” She didn’t know what to ask.

“It’s synchronizing with you. Assimilating part of you into it.” He explained. “ _They_ won’t be able to take if from you.” He grinned. “Once done, you can take if off at your own leisure.”

She closed her eyes, holding back a sigh. Why didn’t he warn her? Sometimes his ways could be so foreign to her.

Once the pain subsided, she rose to her feet, taking a moment to wipe the blood from her face. Her fingers explored the changes to the helm. Still stuck firmly to her face. And these new horns? Born from her blood? “Strange.” She muttered. But Maker loved to dabble with organic tech.

She noticed something else. The Elders’ voices were still silent. “Hm?” She was hesitant to even look at Maker. Was this his doing? She could faintly remember this would only happen when she was at one of his labs. But now here? In her own sanctuary? Part of her was frightened and another part curious. But a sense of dread grew in her. Her eyes darted around the room. Still just the five of them. None of her workers were near this area. But she could sense something. A presence among them. She didn’t like that.

“Now.”

Her eyes snapped onto Maker, hearing his voice. Again he was using his psionics, this time lifting that crystal knife from the case. That _calling_ knife. She now understood the call. A longing one. It wanted to be a part of her. Why? She wanted to step back, but her muscles refused to work. “ _What? Why can’t I move?_ ” She thought.

“Take this.” The knife was in his hands, offering it to her. “ _Make_ it yours.”

Though her legs refused to move, she found one of her free hands raised, moving to take the knife from Maker. Just as it was nearly in her grasp, her hand froze. Fingers twitching just above the hilt. The call was nearly unbearable to resist. That frightened her. She looked at Maker. He was smiling, almost grinning. Nodding for her to take it. Those black star-filled void eyes were filled with excitement.

“As you wish, Master.” Hesitantly, she nodded and took the knife. It was cool to the touch. Her fingers traced every facet, studying it. That calling was unbearable. Yearning to be one with her. “What do you want me to do?” She didn’t know why she spoke to it. She felt it shake, resonate in her hands for a moment. “Yes, of course.”

She knew the answer. She exhaled sharply, then took in a deep breath. Her eyes focused on the blade, concentrating on it. A moment later wisps of her psionic energy resonated with it and it glowed.

“Oh!” A voice echoed in her head. Somehow far away and close at the same time. The knife shattered in her hands at that very moment. Fragments upon fragments floated before her. She didn’t know why, she stretched out all of her arms. The next moment, the fragments struck her.

“Aargh!” She cried out. The fragments dug through her armor and into her skin. Just like the helm, they dug deep into her. _Digging into her flesh and mind_. Her vision went black. All sensations quickly disappeared, except the crystals digging into her. Maker? Gone. Those PROXIES? Gone. The world? Gone.

“So he’s pushing his luck now?” Except one sensation. That echoed voice reverberated in her head again. Closer than ever.

Jy-Sol rapidly blinked her eyes several times. At first there was nothing, but then someone appeared before her. “What the?”

“They must be pushing him to do this. Must have done something _idiotic_.” The voice softly giggled. Though her sight was blurred, the sight of flaming orange-red hair caught her attention. A massive plumage. Spread out like a peacock’s tail. 

“What the?” She tried to pull back, but found her body didn’t respond to her. The being came closer to her, floating towards her in this vast void. One arm crosse under the other, bracing it as the being scratched its chin. As her version cleared, she got a better look at them. A pale brown, shirtless humanoid-being wearing a long, flowing white skirt at its waist. Almost looked human in appearance, but she could tell there was more to this being. Sharp yellow eyes studied her. And then its arms. Black, like the void, but filled with the galaxy.

“That means that your…body…hmm…” The voice trailed off. “Oh!” They threw both of their hands up. A grin appeared. “The risk!” They soon clapped, giggling like a child. “So risky!” The laughing continued.Then achorus of laughter erupted. Other voices joining in. “We like that!”

“Who are you?” She asked.

“Ah!” Their eyes lit up. Shimmering gold for a moment. “You can see us? Hear us?” They were soon in her face. How she wished she could pull back. “Good! Made the connection before dear ol’ brother could.”

“I don’t… understand.”

“All in due time, kiddo.” They pulled back and laughed. “Would be spoilers for now and you need to get used to your new toys.”

“What?” What madness, what trial was Maker subjecting her too? “ _Who_ _are you_?” She wanted to know that.

“A friend.” They grinned, resting a hand under their chin. “We’ll be meeting again soon enough. Just don’t kill that soldier man. He’s important to this _wonderful_ mess and that old bond of yours. Well… _you_ are too, but you’re harder to kill!”

“Wha—” Before she could even finish, she gasped for air. Sputtering and coughing. She was on the ground again. Her body felt weird to her, all sorts of indescribable sensations flowed through her. Fear and curiosity were two of the highest ones.

“Maker. _Master_.” She turned to him. He was there. The world was back. Her voice wavered for a moment. “What was that? Who was that?”

“What was what my child?” He asked. “ _Who_?” He kneeled down.

“I…” She paused, looking away from him. “I don’t know how to describe them.”

“Breathe.” He hushed her. “Your mind needs to rest. Gather your thoughts later and tell me.”

“But—”

“Hush my child.” He hushed her again. “I do apologize for all the pain I have caused you,” he extended a hand to help her up, “but it was necessary to prepare you for the task ahead. Sometimes one must learn wisdom through suffering.”

She hesitated for a moment to take his hand, but soon grabbed it.

“But I am glad everything is synchronizing so well.” He grinned. “They will not be able to _steal_ these from you.”

“Right…” She mumbled. Taking a moment to get her bearings, she wasn’t sure why she flexed out one of her hands. One flex. Then another. And one last one before she felt energy surge through the arm. The sound of shattering glass filled the air as the twin-bladed knife formed in her hands. Like it never broke apart earlier. “Amazing.”

With one of her lower arms, she took her folding blade off her waist. She looked at it and then at the crystalline weapon. “Hm…” She gently touched the folding blade with the crystalline weapon. Her eyes widened with curiosity and horror, as the folding blade shattered into pieces. Though as the pieces fell, each one changed, changed into the same substance that made up the crystalline weapon which started to absorb it. “Hm.”

Sensing what she had to do, she concentrated on the weapon. Increasing the flow of psionics to the arm holding it. Before her eyes, twin-bladed knife shifted into the sharp of the folding blade.“Fascinating.” With a mere thought, the weapon shatter and returned to her. She looked at her small collection of bladed weapons. A grin crept across her face. What a gift.

Her eyes wandered for a moment before they fell on the case. One last gift. That gun. She dreaded it would be the same as the others. “Will… will it?” She gestured to the gun.

“No, no, no.” He shook his head and chuckled. He understood the concern. He brought it towards her like the other two. “I will say it bites, but won’t be as painful as the other gifts.”

“Hm, Master.” She sighed; hoping he was being truthful. She let the gun fall into her hands. The moment it touched her skin, she felt the familiar pinpricks and rooting. She grimaced, gritting her teeth. But he was right. Now as bad as the other two. As she felt a part of herself, part of her essence being drained into the weapon, it started to come to life. Once sleek metal opened up into segments. Parts shifting apart, changing shape in form into different weapons. One moment a rifle, then a short-barreled shotgun, the next a sniper rifle. Even parts being _constructed_ by her essence for a mere moment, before everything went back into place. She holstered it onto her back.“Amazing.” She looked at Maker. “You’ve outdone yourself, Master.”

“Only the best for you.” He smiled. “Do take care of them, they rely on you as much as you rely on them.”

“I will not let your creations go in vane.” She quickly bowed. “Nor them.” She acknowledged the PROXIES.

“Good, good.” He smiled. “Get to know them too. Synchronize with them.”

“I will.”

“This will all help you find your light.” That cryptic phrase from him. She simply nodded. She didn’t know what to say.

Maker turned his back to her. “I must go now. Duties to attend to.”

“Safe travels.” She told him.

He paused for a moment, looking over his shoulder. “I do hope your task goes well. I hope… you make the right decisions.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. More cryptic nonsense. “What do you m—” Before she could get an answer, a purple and red portal enveloped him and he was gone. “Maker.” She sighed. Why was he like this? Especially now?

“Jy-Sol…?” A faint voice called out to her mind.

“My Masters?” She could feel their presence returning. Some of her unease washing away.

“Where are you, Jy-Sol?”

“What happened?”

“Still in my sanctuary. My Stronghold.” She bit her lip. She knew she couldn’t hide that Maker had been there. They would find it in her memories. “A mild… interruption from Maker.” She answered truthfully. She winced as the murmurs grew. She could feel contempt rise from them. “He came bearing gifts. New weapons for me to use.”

“Gifts?”

“ _Gifts_?”

“Search my memories.”

They grew quiet for a moment. She could feel a pull on her mind as they looked. Scrutinized.

“Gifts. New weapons. And PROXIES.” One spoke. A hint of disdain in their voice.

“Discussions to be had with Maker.” One hissed. She wondered if they saw that being.

“Use them well. Refocus on your task.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I will not fail you.”

They soon faded into backgrounder chatter. Encouraging her to focus on her task at hand. Though their voices sounded weaker than before. Almost as if she just concentrated a tiny bit, she could shut them out. “What did you do, Master Maker?” She quietly muttered to herself. A hand raised, gently touching that new helm of hers. It was a frightening thought. She never dreamed of silencing the chorus. She had questions to ask. When the two were alone. He was hiding something. Something from her. Something from his Brethren.

“Focus on the task.”

That faint whisper made her snap to. Her eyes looked over at the PROXIES. All ready to go, minds ready to sync with her’s.

“Faust. Wolfsbane. Enigma.” A stern voice came from her.

“Yes, Master Jy-Sol.” The trio stood before her.

“Follow me to my training room. I need to see you in action.” She gestured for them to follow her.

“Yes.” They nodded and followed.

“And a moment to test my new weapons.” She raised her hand, forming that twin-blade knife. “What shall I name you?” Such a unique thing needed a name. Same with the other gifts. The work her Master could make. But something still didn’t sit well inside her.

“What is your game, Maker?”


End file.
